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I’ve barely finished reading Virgo’s text message before I’m Facetiming her.
She answers almost instantly, but her camera is off. “Before you say anything, I’m fifteen, not five, Gem. No one my age ever goes to the Keyingham’s, and it’s boring. I’m staying home.”
“Bullshit. The Harpers will be there, which means Shelby will—”
“Shelby is spending Thanksgiving in the Maldives.”
“Well, the Windsors will be there. Their youngest—”
“Is a dick.”
To be fair, as much as I love my sister, she is six years younger, and when we’re at the Keyingham Lodge, Syn, Royal and I tend to keep away from everyone else as much as we can. Or at least, Royal and I do. For the past couple of years, Syn’s been forced to interact with all of his father’s guests.
Either way, I avoid anyone who isn’t in college yet. But the eldest Windsor is like an ice sculpture—beautiful to look at, but nothing going on inside. And if that winning combination wasn’t enough, she’s also engaged to Preston du Penis.
“Virg, put the camera on.”
Like if I’ve asked her to pirouette on a penny, Virgo lets out an irritated sigh. Then she turns on the camera.
“Oh, I see exactly why you don’t want to come.”
Until she turned fifteen earlier this year, my sister was girly. She loved dresses, and mostly, they were pink. Then one day, she turned into a goth e-girl. Dresses were swapped for skirts and braces, pink turned into black, and I’ve watched her put on her makeup to know she’s not using one of those eye pencil things to color in her eyelids, and blacks and grays dominate her makeup bag.
Personally, I don’t give a shit what she wears. But this whole style is something I’m convinced she’s doing because it pisses off Eric and Elena.
Today, Virgo’s hair is white.
Not the bleached-blonde that still has a yellow tinge to it, but white, like snow.
Virgo narrows her eyes. “It’s got nothing to do with the color of my hair. I told you—it’s boring as fuck. We live in New York, and we’ve never watched the parade.”
If Virgo really wanted to piss Eric and Elena off, turning up at the Keyinghams with hair like that is a surefire way to get the reaction, so maybe it’s not the reason she wants to stay behind. But the parade?
“Then I’ll come home, and we can go watch it together.”
She rolls her eyes, but not before I see the fear flicker through them. “Go to Pennsylvania, and to the Man Hunt Meat thing. I’m fine by myself.”
I lean forward, resting my elbow on my desk as I stare at Virgo. “Who is he?”
“There is no he, Gemini,” she says with a clipped tone. “You made sure of that.”
She ends the call before I can say anything else, and when I try to call her back, I get sent straight to voicemail.
“Damn straight I did,” I mutter, letting my phone fall the short distance to the desk. Anyone who makes my sister call me for help won’t have a life worth living once I’m done with them, and the last guy is no exception.
The idea of heading to the city instead of the country crosses my mind, but despite my suggestion, I dismiss the idea. Virgo’s not even close to reckless like I am, and I trust her enough to call me if there is a problem.
But I do pick my phone up to send a message to Syn.
Gemini: Not coming. Virgo’s skipping, so I’m telling Eric I’m staying with her.
Syn reads the message but doesn’t respond. I send a message to Eric saying something similar, then turn off my phone.
The question I have to answer now, is where do I go? I can’t cook, and I’m not dealing with the dining hall. A hotel in the city seems like an obvious choice…
I leave my room, figuring I’ll make my decision when I get to my car, but the door to one of the spare rooms is open. Syn and Royal left this morning. Did Tori stay behind?
Does she even know how to cook?
